No Fear Shakespeare: The Merchant of Venice: Act 1, Scene 1 The Merchant of Venice Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SOLANIO ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SOLANIO enter. 5 In sooth, I know not why I am so sad. It wearies me; you say it wearies you. But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, What stuff ’tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn. And such a want-wit sadness makes of me, That I have much ado to know myself. ANTONIO To be honest, I don’t know why I’m so sad. I’m tired of it, and you say you’re tired of it too. But I have no idea how I got so depressed. And if I can’t figure out what’s making me depressed, I must not understand myself very well.

10 Your mind is tossing on the ocean, There, where your argosies with portly sail, Like signors and rich burghers on the flood— Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea— Do overpeer the petty traffickers That curtsy to them, do them reverence As they fly by them with their woven wings. SALARINO You’re worried about your ships. Your mind is out there getting tossed around on the ocean with them. But they’re fine. They’re like huge parade floats on the sea. They’re so big they look down on the smaller ships, which all have to bow and then get out of the way. Your ships fly like birds past those little boats. 15 Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth, The better part of my affections would Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still Plucking the grass to know where sits the wind, Peering in maps for ports and piers and roads. And every object that might make me fear Misfortune to my ventures out of doubt Would make me sad. SOLANIO Yes, believe me, if I had such risky business ventures in other countries, I’d be sad too. I’d worry about it every second.

I’d constantly be tossing blades of grass into the air to find out which way the wind was blowing. I’d be peering over maps to figure out the best ports, piers, and waterways. Everything that made me worry about my ships would make me sad. The Merchant of Venice. Act I. Scene I. William Shakespeare. 1914. The Oxford Shakespeare Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SALANIO. Ant. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad: It wearies me; you say it wearies you; But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, What stuff tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn; And such a want-wit sadness makes of me, That I have much ado to know myself. Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean; There, where your argosies with portly sail, Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood, Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea, Do overpeer the petty traffickers, That curtsy to them, do them reverence, As they fly by them with their woven wings. Salan.

Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth, The better part of my affections would Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still Plucking the grass to know where sits the wind; Peering in maps for ports, and piers, and roads; And every object that might make me fear Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt Would make me sad. Would blow me to an ague, when I thought What harm a wind too great might do at sea. I should not see the sandy hour-glass run But I should think of shallows and of flats, And see my wealthy Andrew dockd in sand Vailing her high-top lower than her ribs To kiss her burial. Should I go to church And see the holy edifice of stone, And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks, Which touching but my gentle vessels side Would scatter all her spices on the stream, Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks; And, in a word, but even now worth this, And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought To think on this, and shall I lack the thought That such a thing bechancd would make me sad?

But tell not me: I know Antonio Is sad to think upon his merchandise. Ant. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it, My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate Upon the fortune of this present year: Therefore, my merchandise makes me not sad. Salar. Why, then you are in love. Ant. Fie, fie! Salar. Not in love neither? Then lets say you are sad, Because you are not merry: and twere as easy For you to laugh and leap, and say you are merry, Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed Janus, Nature hath framd strange fellows in her time: Some that will evermore peep through their eyes And laugh like parrots at a bag-piper, And other of such vinegar aspect That theyll not show their teeth in way of smile, Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable. Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO. Salan. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman, Gratiano, and Lorenzo. Fare ye well: We leave you now with better company. Salar.

I would have stayd till I had made you merry, If worthier friends had not prevented me. Ant. Your worth is very dear in my regard. I take it, your own business calls on you, And you embrace the occasion to depart. Salar. Good morrow, my good lords. Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? say when? You grow exceeding strange: must it be so? Salar. Well make our leisures to attend on yours. [Exeunt SALARINO and SALANIO. Lor. My Lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio, We too will leave you; but, at dinner-time, I pray you, have in mind where we must meet. Bass. I will not fail you. Gra. You look not well, Signior Antonio; You have too much respect upon the world: They lose it that do buy it with much care: Believe me, you are marvellously changd. Ant. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; A stage where every man must play a part, And mine a sad one. Gra.

Let me play the fool: With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come, And let my liver rather heat with wine Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? Sleep when he wakes, and creep into the jaundice By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio I love thee, and it is my love that speaks There are a sort of men whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond, And do a wilful stillness entertain, With purpose to be dressd in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit; As who should say, I am Sir Oracle, And when I ope my lips let no dog bark! O, my Antonio, I do know of these, That therefore only are reputed wise For saying nothing; when, I am very sure, If they should speak, would almost damn those ears Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools. Ill tell thee more of this another time: But fish not, with this melancholy bait, For this fool-gudgeon, this opinion. Come, good Lorenzo.

Fare ye well a while: Ill end my exhortation after dinner. Lor. Well, we will leave you then till dinner-time. I must be one of these same dumb-wise men, For Gratiano never lets me speak. Gra. Well, keep me company but two years moe, Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue. Ant. Farewell: Ill grow a talker for this gear. Gra. Thanks, i faith; for silence is only commendable In a neats tongue dried and a maid not vendible. [Exeunt GRATIANO and LORENZO. Ant. Is that anything now? Bass. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day ere you find them, and, when you have them, they are not worth the search. Ant. Well, tell me now, what lady is the same To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage, That you to-day promisd to tell me of? Bass.

Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, How much I have disabled mine estate, By something showing a more swelling port Than my faint means would grant continuance: Nor do I now make moan to be abridgd From such a noble rate; but my chief care Is, to come fairly off from the great debts Wherein my time, something too prodigal, Hath left me gagd. To you, Antonio, I owe the most, in money and in love; And from your love I have a warranty To unburthen all my plots and purposes How to get clear of all the debts I owe. Ant. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it; And if it stand, as you yourself still do, Within the eye of honour, be assurd, My purse, my person, my extremest means, Lie all unlockd to your occasions. Bass. In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft, I shot his fellow of the self-same flight The self-same way with more advised watch, To find the other forth, and by adventuring both, I oft found both. I urge this childhood proof, Because what follows is pure innocence.

I owe you much, and, like a wilful youth, That which I owe is lost; but if you please To shoot another arrow that self way Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt, As I will watch the aim, or to find both, Or bring your latter hazard back again, And thankfully rest debtor for the first. Ant. You know me well, and herein spend but time To wind about my love with circumstance; And out of doubt you do me now more wrong In making question of my uttermost Than if you had made waste of all I have: Then do but say to me what I should do That in your knowledge may by me be done, And I am prest unto it: therefore speak. Bass.

In Belmont is a lady richly left, And she is fair, and, fairer than that word, Of wondrous virtues: sometimes from her eyes I did receive fair speechless messages: Her name is Portia; nothing undervalud To Catos daughter, Brutus Portia: Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth, For the four winds blow in from every coast Renowned suitors; and her sunny locks Hang on her temples like a golden fleece; Which makes her seat of Belmont Colchos Strond, And many Jasons come in quest of her. O my Antonio! had I but the means To hold a rival place with one of them, I have a mind presages me such thrift, That I should questionless be fortunate. Ant. Thou knowest that all my fortunes are at sea; Neither have I money, nor commodity To raise a present sum: therefore go forth; Try what my credit can in Venice do: That shall be rackd, even to the uttermost, To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia. Go, presently inquire, and so will I, Where money is, and I no question make To have it of my trust or for my sake.

[Exeunt. The Merchant of Venice - Wikiquote The Merchant of Venice Jump to: navigation , search The Merchant of Venice is one of William Shakespeare 's best-known plays. It was written between 1596 and 1598. Contents In sooth, I know not why I am so sad. It wearies me, you say it wearies you. Antonio, scene i My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, Nor to one place. Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time. Salarino, scene i Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable. Salarino, scene i You have too much respect upon the world: They lose it that do buy it with much care. Gratiano, scene i Antonio: I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; A stage, where every man must play a part, And mine a sad one. Gratiano Let me play the fool. scene i Why should a man whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?

Gratiano, scene i There are a sort of men, whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond; And do a willful stillness entertain, With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit; As who should say, I am Sir Oracle, And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!" Gratiano, scene i I do know of these, That therefore only are reputed wise, For saying nothing. Fish not with this melancholy bait, For this fool-gudgeon, this opinion. Gratiano, scene i Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day ere you find them; and when you have them, they are not worth the search. Bassanio, scene i In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft, I shot his fellow of the self-same flight The self-same way, with more advised watch, To find the other forth; and by adventuring both, I oft found both.

In Belmont is a lady richly left; And she is fair, and fairer than that word, Of wondrous virtues. Sometimes from her eyes I did receive fair speechless messages. Bassanio, scene i Hang on her temples like a golden fleece. Bassanio, scene i They are as sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing. It is no mean happiness, therefore, to be seated in the mean; superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer. Nerissa, scene ii If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men’s cottages princes’ palaces. Portia, scene ii The brain may devise laws for the blood; but a hot temper leaps o’er a cold decree. Portia, scene ii He doth nothing but talk of his horse. Portia, scene ii God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man. Portia, scene ii When he is best, he is a little worse than a man; and when he is worst, he is little better than a beast. Portia, scene ii I dote on his very absence.

Portia, scene ii My meaning in saying he is a good man, is, to have you understand me that he is sufficient. Shylock, scene iii Ships are but boards, sailors but men: there be land-rats and water-rats, water-thieves and land-thieves. Shylock, scene iii I will buy with you, sell with you, talk with you, walk with you, and so following; but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor pray with you. Shylock, scene iii If I can catch him once upon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He hates our sacred nation; and he rails, Even there where merchants most do congregate, On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift, Which he calls interest. The devil can cite scripture for his purpose. An evil soul producing holy witness, Is like a villain with a smiling cheek; A goodly apple rotten at the heart: O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!

Antonio, scene iii Signior Antonio, many a time and oft In the Rialto you have rated me About my moneys, and my usances: Still have I borne it with a patient shrug, For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe. You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine, And all for use of that which is mine own. Well then, it now appears you need my help: Go to then: you come to me, and you say, Shylock, we would have monies; You say so; You, that did void your rheum upon my beard, And foot me, as you would spurn a stranger cur Over your threshold; monies is your suit. What should I say to you? Should I not say, Hath a dog money? is it possible A cur can lend three thousand ducats?

or Shall I bend low, and in a bondman’s key, With bated breath and whispering humbleness, Say this, — Fair sir, you spet on me Wednesday last; You spurn'd me such a day; another time You call'd me — dog; and for these courtesies I'll lend you thus much monies? Shylock, scene iii For when did friendship take A breed for barren metal of his friend? Antonio, scene iii O father Abram! what these Christians are, Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect The thoughts of others! I like not fair terms and a villain's mind. Bassanio, scene iii Mislike me not for my complexion, The shadow’d livery of the burnish’d sun. Prince of Morocco, scene i An honest exceeding poor man. Old Gobbo, scene ii The young gentleman (according to Fates and Destinies and such odd sayings, the Sisters Three, and such branches of learning) is, indeed, deceased; or, as you would say in plain terms, gone to heaven. Launcelot Gobbo, scene ii The very staff of my age, my very prop.

Old Gobbo, scene ii It is a wise father that knows his own child. Launcelot Gobbo, scene ii Truth will come to light; murder cannot be hid long; a man's son may; but, in the end, truth will out. Launcelot Gobbo, scene ii In the twinkling of an eye. Launcelot Gobbo, scene ii Thou art too wild, too rude and bold of voice; Parts that become thee happily enough, And in such eyes as ours appear not faults; But where thou art not known, why, there they show Something too liberal. Pray thee, take pain To allay with some cold drops of modesty, Thy skipping spirit, lest through thy wild behavior, I be misconstrued in the place I go to, And lose my hopes. I know the hand: in faith, 'tis a fair hand; And whiter than the paper it writ on Is the fair hand that writ. Lorenzo, scene iv The vile squeaking of the wry-necked fife. Shylock, scene v There will come a Christian by,/Shall be worth a Jewess' eye.

Launcelot Gobbo, scene v Are with more spirit chased than enjoy’d. How like a younker, or a prodigal, The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, Hugg’d and embraced by the strumpet wind! How like the prodigal doth she return, With over-weather’d ribs and ragged sails, Lean, rent, and beggar’d by the strumpet wind! Gratiano, scene vi But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit. Jessica, scene vi Must I hold a candle to my shames? Jessica, scene vi For she is wise, if I can judge of her, And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true, And true she is, as she hath proved herself, And therefore, like herself, wise, fair and true, Shall she be placed in my constant soul. Lorenzo, scene vi All that glisters is not gold, Often have you heard that told: Many a man his life hath sold, But my outside to behold: Gilded tombs do worms infold.

Had you been as wise as bold, Young in limbs, in judgment old, Your answer had not been inscroll'd. Fare you well, your suit is cold. Prince of Morocco, reading Portia's note, scene vii; this is the source of the popular paraphrase " All that glitters is not gold ." Salerino: I saw Bassanio and Antonio part: Bassanio told him he would make some speed Of his return: he answer'd, 'Do not so; Slubber not business for my sake, Bassanio But stay the very riping of the time; And for the Jew's bond which he hath of me, Let it not enter in your mind of love: Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts To courtship and such fair ostents of love As shall conveniently become you there:' And even there, his eye being big with tears, Turning his face, he put his hand behind him, And with affection wondrous sensible He wrung Bassanio's hand; and so they parted. Solanio: I think he only loves the world for him. scene viii Even in the force and road of casualty.

Prince of Arragon, scene ix The fire seven times tried this; Seven times tried that judgment is, That did never choose miss. Some there be that shadow's kiss, And have but a shadow's bliss. There be fools alive, iwis, Silver'd o'er, and so was this. Take what wife you will to bed, I will ever be your head: So be gone; you are sped. Prince of Arragon, reading Portia's note, scene ix Hanging and wiving goes by destiny. Nerissa, scene ix What, wouldst thou have a serpent sting thee twice? Shylock, scene i If you deny me, fie upon your law! There is no power in the decrees of Venice. I stand for judgement: answer — shall I have it? Shylock, scene i I am a tainted wether of the flock, Meetest for death; the weakest kind of fruit Drops earliest to the ground. Antonio, scene i I never knew so young a body with so old a head.

Clerk, scene i The quality of mercy is not strain'd, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice bless’d; It blesseth him that gives and him that takes. ’Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; But mercy is above this sceptred sway, It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God’s, When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, Though justice be thy plea, consider this, That in the course of justice none of us Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy; And that same prayer, doth teach us all to render The deeds of mercy. A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Daniel! Shylock, scene i Shylock: Is it so nominated in the bond? Portia: It is not so express'd, but what of that? 'Twere good you do so much for charity.

Shylock: I cannot find it: 'tis not in the bond. Scene i Commend me to your honorable wife. Tell her the process of Antonio's end; Say how I loved you, speak me fair in death. And when the tale is told, bid her be judge Whether Bassanio had not once a love. Antonio, scene i This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood; The words expressly are, a pound of flesh. Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh; But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods Are by the laws of Venice confiscate Unto the state of Venice. Portia, scene i An upright judge, a learned judge! Gratiano, scene i A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew! Now, infidel, I have you on the hip. Gratiano, scene i A Daniel, still say I; a second Daniel! — I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word.

Gratiano, scene i Nay, take my life and all; pardon not that; You take my house, when you do take the prop That doth sustain my house; you take my life, When you do take the means whereby I live. Shylock, scene i He is well paid that is well satisfied. Portia, scene i How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness, and the night, Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold. There’s not the smallest orb which thou behold’st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins. Such harmony is in immortal souls; But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. Lorenzo, scene i I am never merry when I hear sweet music.

Jessica, scene i The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus: Let no such man be trusted. Lorenzo, scene i How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world. Portia, scene i How many things by season season’d are To their right praise, and true perfection! — Peace, ho! the moon sleeps with Endymion, And would not be awak'd! Portia, scene i This night, methinks, is but the daylight sick. Portia, scene i These blessed candles of the night. Bassanio, scene i Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way Of starved people. Merchant of Venice, Act I, Scene 1 :|: Open Source Shakespeare Salarino . Not in love neither? Then let us say you are sad, 50 Because you are not merry: and 'twere as easy For you to laugh and leap and say you are merry, Because you are not sad.

Now, by two-headed Janus, Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time: Some that will evermore peep through their eyes 55 And laugh like parrots at a bag-piper, And other of such vinegar aspect That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile, Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable. [Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO] Salanio . Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman, Gratiano and Lorenzo. Fare ye well: We leave you now with better company. Salarino . I would have stay'd till I had made you merry, If worthier friends had not prevented me. 65 Antonio . Your worth is very dear in my regard. I take it, your own business calls on you And you embrace the occasion to depart. Salarino . Good morrow, my good lords. Bassanio . Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? say, when? 70 You grow exceeding strange: must it be so? Salarino . We'll make our leisures to attend on yours. [Exeunt Salarino and Salanio] Lorenzo .

My Lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio, We two will leave you: but at dinner-time, 75 I pray you, have in mind where we must meet. Bassanio . I will not fail you. Gratiano . You look not well, Signior Antonio; You have too much respect upon the world: They lose it that do buy it with much care: 80 Believe me, you are marvellously changed. Antonio . I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; A stage where every man must play a part, And mine a sad one. Gratiano . Let me play the fool: 85 With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come, And let my liver rather heat with wine Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? 90 Sleep when he wakes and creep into the jaundice By being peevish?

I tell thee what, Antonio— I love thee, and it is my love that speaks— There are a sort of men whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond, 95 And do a wilful stillness entertain, With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit, As who should say 'I am Sir Oracle, And when I ope my lips let no dog bark!' 100 O my Antonio, I do know of these That therefore only are reputed wise For saying nothing; when, I am very sure, If they should speak, would almost damn those ears, Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools. 105 I'll tell thee more of this another time: But fish not, with this melancholy bait, For this fool gudgeon, this opinion. Come, good Lorenzo. Fare ye well awhile: I'll end my exhortation after dinner. 110 Lorenzo . Well, we will leave you then till dinner-time: I must be one of these same dumb wise men, For Gratiano never lets me speak. Gratiano .

Well, keep me company but two years moe, Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue. 115 Antonio . Farewell: I'll grow a talker for this gear. Gratiano . Thanks, i' faith, for silence is only commendable In a neat's tongue dried and a maid not vendible. [Exeunt GRATIANO and LORENZO] Antonio . Is that any thing now? 120 Bassanio . Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth the search. 125 Antonio . Well, tell me now what lady is the same To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage, That you to-day promised to tell me of? Bassanio .

'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, How much I have disabled mine estate, 130 By something showing a more swelling port Than my faint means would grant continuance: Nor do I now make moan to be abridged From such a noble rate; but my chief care Is to come fairly off from the great debts 135 Wherein my time something too prodigal Hath left me gaged. To you, Antonio, I owe the most, in money and in love, And from your love I have a warranty To unburden all my plots and purposes 140 How to get clear of all the debts I owe. Antonio . I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it; And if it stand, as you yourself still do, Within the eye of honour, be assured, My purse, my person, my extremest means, 145 Lie all unlock'd to your occasions. Bassanio .

In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft, I shot his fellow of the self-same flight The self-same way with more advised watch, To find the other forth, and by adventuring both 150 I oft found both: I urge this childhood proof, Because what follows is pure innocence. I owe you much, and, like a wilful youth, That which I owe is lost; but if you please To shoot another arrow that self way 155 Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt, As I will watch the aim, or to find both Or bring your latter hazard back again And thankfully rest debtor for the first. Antonio . You know me well, and herein spend but time 160 To wind about my love with circumstance; And out of doubt you do me now more wrong In making question of my uttermost Than if you had made waste of all I have: Then do but say to me what I should do 165 That in your knowledge may by me be done, And I am prest unto it: therefore, speak. Bassanio .

In Belmont is a lady richly left; And she is fair, and, fairer than that word, Of wondrous virtues: sometimes from her eyes 170 I did receive fair speechless messages: Her name is Portia, nothing undervalued To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia: Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth, For the four winds blow in from every coast 175 Renowned suitors, and her sunny locks Hang on her temples like a golden fleece; Which makes her seat of Belmont Colchos' strand, And many Jasons come in quest of her. O my Antonio, had I but the means 180 To hold a rival place with one of them, I have a mind presages me such thrift, That I should questionless be fortunate! Antonio . Thou know'st that all my fortunes are at sea; Neither have I money nor commodity 185 To raise a present sum: therefore go forth; Try what my credit can in Venice do: That shall be rack'd, even to the uttermost, To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia.

Go, presently inquire, and so will I, 190 Where money is, and I no question make To have it of my trust or for my sake. [Exeunt] Shakespeare's Comedy The Merchant of Venice - Antonio vows to borrow money Explanatory Notes for Act 1, Scene 1 From The Merchant of Venice. Ed. Felix E. Schelling. New York: American Book Co. The opening passages of a play must put the reader in possession of the essentials on which the plot is based: the place, the circumstances, and the relation of the persons who are to figure in the story. The title has already conveyed to our minds the place, Venice: to the ears of the contemporaries of Shakespeare, the celebrated mart of the East, a synonym for political power, opulence, and glittering barbaric profusion. A merchant of Venice was thus no ordinary man; but, as Antonio is later called, a "royal merchant," one whose dealings were with kings, and on a scale of magnitude and splendor.

In this opening scene the keynote is struck in Antonio's unreasoning sadness; and the circumstance that he has many ships on many seas, together with the thought of the risks of such ventures, is impressed on the reader's mind. Then follows the entrance of Bassanio with his friends, the merry mood of Gratiano contrasting with the melancholy of Antonio; and the scene ends with Bassanio's confession of his hopes as to Portia, and Antonio's generous offer of his credit to further them. We have in this scene Antonio in doubt as to his argosies abroad, but staunch in his friendship; and we have Bassanio embarked on his project, the winning of Portia. It is out of these two circumstances that the two main stories of the drama grow. Shylock, as the name of a Jew, was known in prose tracts and in a ballad of Shakespeare's time. Its origin may have been in the Italian name, Scialocca. 4. stuff. Compare Tempest, iv. 1. 156: "We are such stuff As dreams are made on." 5. I am [yet] to learn, is the fuller modern phrase. Elizabethan English often thus omits a word.

Compare The Two Gentlemen of Verona, ii. I. 59. 8. ocean. Pronounced as three syllables. 9. argosies. An argosy was usually a large merchantman; and the word was probably derived from the town of Ragusa or Arragosa, which enjoyed a large trade with England in the sixteenth century. 11. pageants. The pageant was the stage on which the old popular plays were acted in the streets. The word was often used of the plays themselves. Shakespeare here likens the lofty merchantmen with sails spread to these tall and decorated structures. 13. curtsy. "Suggested by the rocking, ducking motion in the petty traffiquers caused by the wake of the argosy as it sails past them" (Furness). 15. venture. What is risked in a merchant's voyage. 18. Plucking the grass, to test the direction of the wind by dropping it from the hand. 25. hour-glass. An hour-glass, placed near the pulpit, was commonly used to mark the duration of the sermon in Shakespeare's day. 27. Andrew, the name of the ship. 35.

worth this. The thought is probably here completed by a gesture of the actor. 50. Janus, the Roman guardian deity of gates, represented with two heads because every door looks two ways. 56. Nestor, the oldest and hence the gravest of the heroes. 67. You grow exceeding strange. Compare the modern, "You are becoming quite a stranger." 67. must it be so? Must you really go? or, perhaps, Must you continue such a stranger? 74. You have too much respect upon the world. You have too much regard for the world's opinion. 75. They lose it. It here refers to the opinion of the world. 78. a stage, etc. Compare the famous passage: "All the world's a stage," As You Like It, ii. 7. 139. 79. play the fool. The fool, with his cap, bells, and bauble, was a favorite character in the old comedy. 84. grandsire cut in alabaster, an allusion to the tombs of old time, of which a stone or alabaster figure of the deceased formed a conspicuous part. 85. jaundice.

This disease was supposed to cause everything to appear yellow to the person afflicted with it. Compare Troilus and Cressida, i. 3. 2. 89. cream and mantle, thicken in scum on the surface and completely cover. Notice the Elizabethan freedom which compels the noun, without change in form, to do service as a verb. 93. As who shall say, in modern phrase, "As if one should say." An old idiom very common in Shakespeare. See below, i. 2. 50. 93. I am, sir, an oracle. This is the reading of the folios; the quartos read Sir Oracle. 96, 97. reputed wise For saying nothing. Compare Proverbs, xvii. 28: "Even a fool when he holdeth his peace is counted wise; and he that shutteth his lips is esteemed a man of understanding." 98. If they should speak, [they] would, etc. Shakespeare often omits the nominative when the sense will easily supply it, as here. See Hamlet, ii. 2. 67; iii. I. 8. This passage contains an allusion to Matthew, v.

22: "Whosoever shall say to his brother ... 'Thou fool,' shall be in danger of hell fire." 101. melancholy bait, i.e. melancholy as a bait. 125. continuance, i.e. continuance of. 126. make moan to be abridged, complain that I am cut short. 137. Within the eye of honor, within the limits of what can be considered honorable. 139. occasions, to be pronounced as four syllables. The terminations ion and ian are commonly pronounced as two syllables; see ocean above, i. I. 8. 141. fellow of the self-same flight, an arrow of the same length, weight, and feathering, calculated to carry the same distance. 143. To find the other forth, to find out the other. Compare Comedy of Errors, i. 2. 37. This line is two syllables longer than the usual decasyllabic line of English blank verse; but it runs easily off the tongue in precisely the interval of time required for a verse of ten syllables.

Shakespeare wrote for the ear, and not for the eye; and these "irregularities," as they are sometimes called, are not only true to the speech of his day, but are often real beauties from the variety which they give to the versification. 145. pure innocence, childish foolishness. Bassanio is anxious that his friend, Antonio, shall understand that he himself fully appreciates the real folly of his plan to throw good money after bad. 156. In making question of my uttermost, in doubting my readiness to do my utmost in your service. 165, 166. nothing undervalued To ... Brutus' Portia, i.e. when brought to the side of, and compared with Brutus's Portia. See below, ii. 7. 53. Portia, wife of Brutus , a woman of renown for her greatness of spirit, figures in Shakespeare's Julius Caesar . 171. Colchos' strand, in allusion to the story of Jason, the famous leader of the Argonauts, who sought and found the golden fleece in Colchos by the aid of Medea, whom he made his wife and brought back to Greece.

175. a mind presages. Note the omission of the relative, a common Shakespearean idiom. See Measure for Measure, ii. 2. 23 ; Richard II, ii. 2. 128 . 185. of my trust or for my sake, in consequence of my credit or for the sake of my friendship. _______ How to cite the explanatory notes: Shakespeare, William. The Merchant of Venice. Ed. Felix E. Schelling. New York: American Book Co., 1903. Shakespeare Online. 20 Feb. 2011. (date when you accessed the information) < >. ______ All speeches (lines) for Antonio in "Merchant of Venice" :|: Open Source Shakespeare Your worth is very dear in my regard. I take it, your own business calls on you... 5 I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; A stage where every man must play a part,... 6 Farewell: I'll grow a talker for this gear. 7 Is that any thing now? 8 Well, tell me now what lady is the same To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage,...

9 I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it; And if it stand, as you yourself still do,... 10 You know me well, and herein spend but time To wind about my love with circumstance;... 11 Thou know'st that all my fortunes are at sea; Neither have I money nor commodity... 12 Shylock, although I neither lend nor borrow By taking nor by giving of excess,... 13 But little: I am arm'd and well prepared. Give me your hand, Bassanio: fare you well!... 39 So please my lord the duke and all the court To quit the fine for one half of his goods,... 40 And stand indebted, over and above, In love and service to you evermore. 41 My Lord Bassanio, let him have the ring: Let his deservings and my love withal... 42 No more than I am well acquitted of. 43 I am the unhappy subject of these quarrels. 44 I once did lend my body for his wealth; Which, but for him that had your husband's ring,... 45 Here, Lord Bassanio; swear to keep this ring. 46

Question: 'In truth I know not why I am so sad' is the first line of which Shakespeare play?
Answer: The MERCHANT OF VENICE